


A Brief Escape

by ArkaneAssassin



Series: Moments of a Life [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 01:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkaneAssassin/pseuds/ArkaneAssassin
Summary: He needed a break from his mundane existence. This probably wasn't the best idea.





	A Brief Escape

** _The Mayfair, 2014_ **

This was stupid. Right now he could be sat at home on his comfy couch, no doubt “arguing” with the other half or reading to his four year old daughter. Sure things had settled down to a crawl somewhat, work was getting to him at the moment, maybe occasionally feeling like he breezed through his twenties too quickly, and married life could make him want to tear his hair out at times but this was something that really wasn’t him.

It had started out as a throwaway suggestion from someone, initially laughed off but no matter how much he tried to remove it since the thought instead grew and grew until he found himself here in some swanky hotel bar, nice ironed shirt, clean suit jacket and trousers, the good watch on, and staring at the wedding ring he can’t decide whether to remove or not before he goes through with this.

“You look a little lost,” came a lilting voice to his right. He did little more than glance briefly, noting the woman who now stood three or so feet away from him along the bar.

“Hmm, oh. Just not used to the choices here,” he offered as a weak excuse, trying not to appear nervous.

“Well, why don’t you try this,” she offered, taking the chance to move closer as she presented her drink to him and tilted it slightly, allowing him to taste the slightly bitter concoction the cocktail glass contained that caused him to cough slightly. A short musical laugh came from the woman, “I take it you don’t try Manhattans all that often?”

“No, I’m not much of a spirits man,” he squeezed out, trying not to feel embarrassed in front of the woman as her eyes twinkled in amusement. She began to play with the cherry garnish in her hand, bringing it up to her lips.

“It’s an acquired taste,” she spoke deliberately as she slowly bit into the cherry, the juice barely escaping before her tongue darted out to catch it and swirl it along the full breadth of her dark red painted lips. When she finished, which could’ve been two seconds or a minute later for all he knew, she turned to the waiter at the opposite end of the bar, “excuse me, could I have a bottle of the…” her order began but he missed the rest as no matter how he tried to resist the urge his gaze lowered as she raised herself up and leaned over the bar to view the bottle selection. The dress was clearly the sort designed to stay true to her curves as much as possible but it was only now he saw that much of it was see-through at this distance, only the area from the middle of her back down to barely a quarter down the thigh was actually opaque while the material covering her arms and neckline down to the middle of her thighs was a shimmering translucent layer.

When he finally brought his gaze back up clearly she’d noticed, a slight smile on the corner of her mouth was all the indication she gave however as the barman came back with the drink she ordered for him, telling him to put it on the room.

“Would you care to sit down,” she asked, to which he nodded as they headed to a small padded circular bench. She let him sit down first before sitting down next to him, trapping him in the seat as he noted the feel of her knee against his to seemingly test his reaction, “so is this your first time here,” she asked, pushing a stray length of hair back behind her shoulder.

“Yes, I heard it has a good reputation.”

“Well-earned I assure you. The suites are rather well-equipped and exquisite, I always wake up rested after an evening work-out.”

“Which work-out do you think works best?”

“I’ve always found a firm guiding hand works best for me. Someone who can push me to my limits,” she spoke, growing huskily towards the end along with a slight squeeze of his thigh just to seemingly make sure he got the implication and offer it entailed. She knew polite society well, avoiding making it explicit so that if he chose not to accept it would be as though no offer was ever made.

Any other offer like this he would’ve said no. This time he simply couldn’t, so he tried to play her at her own game.

“Sounds like something I’d enjoy,” he answered, causing her to lean other and place a card in his hand before whispering into his ear.

“Room ten seventeen,” she informed him before brushing her hand up his arm as she got up and stalked with an exaggerated sway to the hips towards the lifts, giving him a smile as the doors closed on her.

He knew he could’ve just walked out at that point, put this all up to a stupid fleeting desire, and gone home and continued his normal existence. Instead he downed what was left of his drink, noting that his companion had left most of hers there, and quickly made his way over to the lifts as well.

It couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds for it to reach the top floor but it felt like a torturous age until those doors opened and he saw her waiting against the door to her room, waiting for him to make the next step for himself as he opened the door as a final act of accepting this fate.

It couldn’t have been an instant longer than the door clicking shut before she pulled him towards her, locked her arms around his neck, and closed her mouth with his. Almost by instinct an arm came around her waist and the other on her neck, while she deepened the kiss with an appreciative sigh. Her hands soon detached from their current position and began pushing at his jacket, clearly taking the time to explore his chest through the shirt in the process. Their mouths still attached he moved his arms to remove the jacket before she finally pulled away from him, coyly presenting her back to him while an arm moved behind her neck to move her hair away from the zip at the back of the dress, “maybe you could help me out of this?”

He moved forward, his earlier nervousness long forgotten now, as he began to move the zip downwards.

Except it didn’t move much, only instead the woman in front of him began crying out.

“Harry, Harry, stop. My bloody hair is stuck in it!”

* * *

Pansy let out a pleasurable groan as he felt the bed move under her as she shifted further back.

“You like that,” he asked her, as his hand closed around a breast in front of him.

“Definitely. I feel so full,” she moaned.

“You want some more,” to which she enthusiastically nodded.

He reached for one of the thighs next to him only to feel her hand on his.

“Pass me one of the chicken strips dear.”

In the many ways he saw this evening going the past couple of hours were definitely not how he saw them going, but he wasn’t complaining.

Pansy’s little idea for “spicing up” their date night had pretty much fallen apart once she got her hair caught in the dress she’d been wearing, leading to him having to comfort her as she briefly fell apart on the bed deriding how “unsexy” she felt in that moment to which he repeatedly remarked how sexy he always found her and in what ways.

Though he suspected that’s what she wanted to begin with…

After that he managed to talk her into letting him carefully cut the trapped hair away so she could actually remove the rather appealing outfit but by then the atmosphere had definitely gone.

So instead here they were, sat against the headboard, dressed in little more than bedclothes and rather comfy complimentary dressing gowns, watching some random ridiculous late night film about a murderous vigilante, and eating KFC (which he had to sneak back into the hotel).

“I’m definitely going back to a shorter haircut for a while now. Probably that messy bob I had before Violet came along,” she said.

“Honestly dear, it’s fine. It was only a few strands that needed cutting,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. She’d been paranoid of how it looked ever since he cut maybe a total of 15 hairs from her head.

“Don’t have a go at me just because I trust a stylist more than you, you brute,” she claimed with a playful shove.

“Well, at least that’ll be a warning for the next time you decide to try and add some roleplay to our little hotel stays.”

“Well excuse me for trying something different. And you agreed to it don’t forget. I can’t believe how nervous you seemed Harry, nor how embarrassed you were getting caught for appreciating how your wife was dressed…”

“I don’t know. I really can’t decide what’s more sexy. You in that dress or right now,” he teased just as she viciously tore into another piece of chicken, her face scrunched up fierce as she did so.

“Oh har har,” she jumbled out, mouth half-full in the unlady-like manner that seemed to emerge in his wife whenever fast food was nearby, “amazingly that grease stain and batter on your chin right now isn’t exactly turning me on right now either,” she laughed, causing him to self-consciously remove it.

“Better?”

“Better,” she agreed before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the situation causing his wife to stare at him confused, “I’m just laughing that we spent £20 on two drinks downstairs just to lounge around eating £15 worth of chicken.”

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t laugh just yet. You don’t know how much you spent on the room.”

“I spent on the room,” he added incredulously. Pansy just tiredly removed the rubbish between them and shifted over to wrap her arms round him awkwardly and buried her face in his arm.

“Well it was your treat don’t forget.”

“Thanks,” he sarcastically replied, “so just to clarify we’ve spent I’m guessing several hundred pounds to eat chicken on a bed on the first night we’ve had away from our daughter in the last three months?”

“If by several hundred you mean a couple thousand then yes.”

He groaned in anguish at that, “this bed better be worth it then.”

“Well I would demonstrate what I said earlier except I don’t think either of us are up to that right now,” Pansy groaned, moving an arm to rub at her slightly distended stomach before unceremoniously poking his matching one.

“So cup of tea, film, bed sweetheart?”

“Sounds perfect,” she drawled before stretching up against him and lazily kissing him.

Again, this wasn’t how Harry saw the night going to begin with. But a night away spent with his beloved wife and no every day worries to deal with, that was just as much a win in his books as anything.


End file.
